


Minor Edits

by SirLadySketch



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Before Jaws of Hakkon, Before Trespasser, F/M, Gen, In which Varric judges Lavellan for her taste in men, Shooting the breeze with friends, Solavellan, post breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:05:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5696098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirLadySketch/pseuds/SirLadySketch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She thought he'd been joking about the whole "I'm going to write a book about all of this" comment, but apparently she was mistaken. The Inquisitor meets with Varric to invite him on another adventure, and to set the records straight. Set after the defeat of Corypheus, but before the Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Minor Edits

“So, what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Varric asked, pouring out a cup and pushing it across the table. The Inquisitor’s lip twitched, a small ghost of a smile flitting across her face as she took a sip of the offered drink. 

“Does that line ever work outside of one of your books?” she asked in turn, reaching over to filch a potato wedge from his plate. She grinned at his mock protest, going back for a second, stealing a bit of sauce to add insult to injury. “Actually, does it even work in your books? Can’t a girl just want to shoot the breeze with an old friend? How long are you here this time?”

“A week, maybe two. I’m afraid my editor has me on a tight leash,” he gave a dramatic sigh, although there was a smile on his face. “When I'm not helping out with the rebuilding efforts, she tends to hover just within my field of vision. She keeps threatening to lock me up in some tower until the manuscript is done, but then she insists on dragging me halfway across Thedas on these book tours. I’m starting to suspect that she’s been getting pointers from Seeker on the abduction and keeping of dwarves.”

The Inquisitor laughed, a low sound that would have been lost in the din of the tavern’s patrons had they not taken their drinks to the third floor. The Kid was nowhere to be seen, and it was easier to chat here than below, fewer chances of getting interrupted by well-wishers and demanding fans.

“Anything I can do to convince you to run away with me?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows in a deliberate and comical effect. “Josie’s gotten an odd letter from some professor in the Frostback Basin, and I could use an expert marksman by my side.”

Varric laughed, raising his own glass. “When you put it like that, Longshot, I’d be a fool to say no. Hell, my editor would order me to tag along. The scandal itself would sell thousands of copies of the next book, not to mention the weirdest shit happens to you, so any new adventures are guaranteed to be prime sequel material.”

“Oh, you’re actually writing a book about… all of this?” she asked, frowning a little. “I thought you were joking.”

“I’m in the process of finishing up the final draft,” he said as he refilled their drinks. “Taking longer than expected, mostly because my editor keeps asking me if I’m sure that what I wrote is really how it happened. Honestly, I thought shit couldn’t get weirder after Kirkwall, but you’ve never half-assed anything in the time I’ve known you, so I thought it would be best if I set the records straight about what you got up to.”

“Hmm,” she replied, staring into her drink. She frowned a little, raised the mug to her lips, but didn’t drink immediately. She lowered her hands after a few heartbeats, sighing into the quiet. “Everything?”

“Well, I took out the bodice-ripping scenes per your request,” he defended himself, although he shrugged with a bit of a smile. “But I left in that time Vivienne walked into your tent unannounced. Ah, and that time in the Emerald Graves when you came back to camp dressed only in a shirt—don’t give me that look, I have to give the readers something. If I didn’t make you a living, breathing person they’d get it into their heads that you’re some cloistered sister, singing the praises of Andraste.”

“Did you, ah… all of it?” She asked, flushing at the memory.

“You mean did I include the part beforehand where you and Chuckles came back covered in mud and avoided eye contact with the rest of us for the remainder of the trip? Yeah, that made it in there. You can’t make shit like that up, and readers eat it up.”

“Hmm,” she acknowledged, and took a sip from her mug at last. “I hope… I don’t want you to write….” She sighed, and looked up to meet his gaze, reaching a hand out to cover his. “Varric, despite what happened, I don’t want him turned into a villain.”

His eyes narrowed at that, and he pursed his lips. “Longshot, he broke your heart. Twice. I know it’s been a few months, but maybe if he reads about what an ass he was—“

“No,” she said, tightening her grip on his hand. “Don’t you dare turn him into some dastardly ne’er-do-well, who had his way with me and then left me to the wolves. If you print something that slanders him in any way, I will make an official statement denouncing your book. I’ll send an autographed copy of the statement to your editor. I'll make a proclamation, followed by book burnings,” she threatened, and refused to look away as he frowned at her.

They stared at each other for a few long moments, not wanting to argue, but neither willing to back down. It was Varric who relented first, sighing and patting her hand a few times.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he grumbled, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he blew out a dramatic sigh. “Alright, I'll make some changes. Chuckles isn’t really the villain type anyway. I was thinking more of a dark, melancholic hero with a tormented past. My editor might complain that he’s a bit like Broody, but I’ll make it work out somehow.”

“Thank you,” she replied, giving his hand a tight squeeze before releasing him at last. He shook his head, and wagged a finger at her.

“Don't thank me yet. I expect payment in the form of one more adventure I can add as a supplemental novella. A guy’s got to eat,” he chided, although he grinned. “Tell you what; I’m feeling beneficent, so I’ll let you read what I have so far and you can tell me what you think while we talk to Ruffles’ professor.”

“I’d like that,” she said, taking a drink. Varric eased back in his chair, idly running a finger along the lip of his glass.

“What does this professor want, anyway?” he asked. “A firsthand account of the Rift?”

“Actually, he said he had information about the resting place of the last Inquisitor,” she said, brightening a little as she recalled the letter Josie’d received. “People are so interested in the Inquisition, why not dig a little deeper into its history?”

“Well, history books aren’t really my thing, but there isn’t a lot published about the Avvar. Maybe I can spin a travel piece if you’re just going to be exploring old ruins and whatnot. Although knowing our luck, we’ll probably run into a dragon that farts frost.” He laughed, raising his glass to her once again.

“Here’s to all the weird shit yet to come,” he said. She clinked her glass against his.

“I’ll drink to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mud incident in question was "Magic in the Moonlight", found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4825322/chapters/11050448


End file.
